I’ve been asking God for a fish lately. It's easier to write about these sorts of things after one has acquired the sought-after fish, which, for me, is a good job. A fog of despondency and occasionally a cloud of buzzing gnats screaming the internalized “what-if-this-never-freaking-ends!” permeate the air as I write this, though only from time to time, of course.
Ask. Seek. Knock. The first two verses of Matthew 7:7-11 are sermon favorites. The latter three, not so much. But God is a good...
